The Conveyor Belt

You arrived. Physically. Sweat runs down your neck, because you had to be first at immigration. Well done! Now you have to wait. Endlessly. Uselessly. You need to get out. You must get the train. The bus. Taxi? Forget it. What needs to be done next? What was good and what was bad about the flight? And why did your ID card got stuck in the e-channel? The conveyor belt starts turning. The more pieces of heavy luggage drop out and into your sight, the more you get caught up in following each single one of them. To some you pay only short attention. What an ugly piece! Oh no, Hello Kitty, again! Some others you have to follow until you see who picks it up: An umbrella? who the heck checks in an umbrella? You must see which idiot checks in an umbrella. And this tiny lady? Your are sure she will pick up the biggest piece. It seems that the whole thing starts spinning faster now. So many things are going on. Each piece of luggage catches your attention. Takes some of your energy. Oh! Is that your bag? or the other one? You always wanted one of those cool aluminum cases. But it’s expensive. That makes it even more worth to possess. Not every moron has one of those. Like this nerd there, next to you. Looks like a Yoga-teacher. You bet the old handmade hippie-bag belongs to him. Ha, Bingo! why is he smiling at you. Now he starts making conversation: “Hey man. We were checking in together, remember? didn’t you say, you were traveling with hand-luggage only? Enjoy your stay!”